


Scott Ryder's Horrible, Awful, No-Good Day

by humblydefiant, jeannedarcprice



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Fluffy Angst, Illustrated Fic, M/M, all in good fun, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 20:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17535968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humblydefiant/pseuds/humblydefiant, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarcprice/pseuds/jeannedarcprice
Summary: It's vacation time for the crew of the Tempest but the Pathfinder is anything but relaxed. Scott feels jilted by his boyfriend, Gil - who just doesn't seem to have time for Scott - and the antics of his first day of "fun and sun" only makes his mood worse. Is there any saving this vacation gone wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first participation in a Big Bang and I'm nervous and excited at the same time. Many, many thanks to my art partner [Jeannedarcprice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarcprice/pseuds/jeannedarcprice) for the original piece that inspired me to put poor Scott through hell (all with love) and for adding more amazing pieces after she read it. I'm so happy we inspired each other! To my awesome, amazing, stupendous beta who tidies up my sloppy mess, much thanks to Ellebeedarling!

“Ryder?”

He heard his name but it didn’t stick. It passed over his swirling consciousness, a cloud above a choppy sea. He was busy plotting murder. Stewing over all the reasons his mechanic boyfriend deserved it.

“Ryder!”

Peebee’s exclamation, in tandem with a high-pitched, untranslatable squeak from Vetra, hooked his consciousness. Reality reeled him back just in time to see the Nomad leave a cliff side, go airborne for a good five seconds before reconnecting with the near vertical embankment. Despite the shocks and the inertia dampeners, the impact jarred his teeth. Normally, the shrieks of horror and disgust such driving techniques extracted from most of his crew (Drack excluded), brought a smile to his face.

Not today.

He half-heartedly steered, barely missing a boulder twice the size of the vehicle. A jagged edge scraped the driver’s side of the Nomad with a piercing screech that even made Ryder grimace.

“Oh, Gil’s gonna be pissed - uh-oh.” A blue hand shot to her mouth, trying to catch the words. To stuff them back inside her hasty mouth. Too late.

Wrong. Thing. To say.

Scott took his foot off the brake and floored the accelerator. He jerked the steering wheel hard to the right, just enough to extract some screams of horror from the girls. Not enough to actually flip the vehicle. Despite popular opinion to the contrary, Scott knew how to drive. He drove very well, in fact. It was his best kept secret. No one knew, though he believed that Gil had a sneaking suspicion.

Just how he wanted it. He could have all the fun he wanted in an extra-terrain vehicle and could play it off as bad driving skills. One long-running practical joke. Normally, whenever a crew member cursed him as they sailed over a cliff or muttered “learn how to drive” as they walked away from the Nomad, rubbing a jarred knee or aching back - well, it made him giggle inside. Even as he professed his apologies, he mentally said “gotcha” and un-holstered his metaphorical finger guns.

But now, nothing lifted his spirits. Not even the moment he extracted an asari curse word from Peebee in tandem with a weird, turian clacking sound from Vetra, both of which confounded the translator, as he careened around a corner and swerved yet again to “miss” a rock outcropping. The loud crunch of rock against metal told him that he had left some of the Nomad’s paint behind.

Good. Just as he wanted it.

Sure, his reckless driving piled up hours of work for his boyfriend, Gil. Usually, the fact that his antics resulted in some hard labor for his man caused him quite a bit of guilt. Not enough to actually stop, but he made sure that he paid him back in other ways. Besides, something about seeing those tufts of red hair jutting above a welders mask did something to him that usually brought good rewards for Gil later. He just had to shrug off all the curses emanating from the undercarriage of the Nomad on a regular basis.

This time was different. This was pure, premeditated revenge. In this case, Peebee and Vetra were just collateral damage. And the amount of damage inflicted on the Nomad: sabotage. But, in Scott’s estimation, the man had it coming.

It certainly didn’t have to be this way. Could have been different. He could be down by the lake right now, beer in hand, Gil’s crotch in the other, working on a tan. Sure, Scott knew very well that there was no working on a tan for him; it always proved to be more like a man painfully metamorphosing into a lobster, complete with a trip to the doctor the next day for burn salve. Then, days later, sloughing off the lobster skin to reveal the baby pink skin of a new man underneath. So, yeah, good times.

He could be having a fucking good time. But nooooooooo. No, no, no. Gil had been too busy. Busy, busy, busy. Their first true vacation since arriving in Heleus - a fucking well deserved vacation; yet, it would seem, the man had no concept of the word. Hello, I’m Gil. And I work. It’s what I do. Fun? What is fun? There is work to do.

Scott couldn’t even say for sure how it came to this. There had been a flurry of activity. Planning. Preparations. A general air of excitement suffusing the Tempest. Perhaps he shouldered some of the blame. One vacation commitment with a friend turned into two, then five. It snowballed somehow. Everyone wanted a slice of his time. Even Kallo asked for an outing, which he still hadn’t quite figured out. Kallo didn’t seem the outing type.

Still, he blamed Gil mostly. Scott had bugged him for weeks, filling the mechanic’s ears with all the things he wanted to do, which consisted primarily of doing nothing. The said day by the lake. Perhaps a hike up Clingmans Rock - the shorter part, not the spiky part that only crazy adventurers scaled. Nothing too strenuous - it is vacation after all. Oh, and definitely a romantic sunset picnic out on Devil’s Leap Overlook. Oh, they should totally camp there!

“Ok.” “Sounds good.” “Whatever you want.”

It took a while for Scott to discover the pattern of non-committal responses his eager planning had been met with. His own excitement clouded the fact that Gil seemed anything but excited. The one time that Scott commented on Gil’s lack of enthusiasm, he’d gotten an “I’m just tired” excuse as a response. Scott had bought it. Of course his man stayed tired, he worked non-stop, save for a poker game now and then and their regular trysts in various parts of the ship. The latter could only add to Gil’s exhaustion.

Scott never saw it coming. The gall. The betrayal. The memory drove his eyebrows plunging further down between his eyes - and the Nomad off yet another cliff.

Oops. This one hadn’t been planned. Scott had been too preoccupied to the see the bog below them. One of the side-effects of terraforming. With the renewed rains that swept across the plains on a far more regular basis, some of the areas which remained in shadow never fully dried out. They now sailed over one such shadowy mud hole.

Well, fuck. Scott stomped the accelerator. Sure, he knew it would do zero good as they were mid-air. It served more as a physical, actionable equivalent to prayer. Come on, baby, make it over.

The Nomad landed with a softened thud, slid several meters, then stopped. He could hear four of the wheels digging into the mire. He glanced at his passengers. They did not look amused.

“Are we stuck?” Peebee, sitting in the passenger seat, crossed her arms across her chest as she scowled at Ryder.

“Nah. I just gotta put it in six-wheel drive is all. I’ll have us out in a jiffy.” He toggled to 6WD and pushed the pedal. Gently at first, then harder as his desperation revved higher while the Nomad remained stationary.

“Does ‘jiffy’ mean ‘soon’?”

“Haha. Funny, Vetra,” Scott shot a look of death towards the backseat as Peebee snickered next to him. “I’ll just have to get out and push.” And yes, he knew very well the impossibility of pushing a vehicle that weighed several tons out of a mud pit that he’d probably just sink into and die - which didn’t seem like such a terrible idea after all, given how he felt at that moment.

Fortunately, his passengers must have sensed this and remained quiet for several minutes while he sulked. His mind reeled for possibilities but the only reasonable one that came to him he refused to entertain. So he sat and stewed. Perhaps, out of eventual boredom, Vetra stuck her neck on the chopping block and said it out loud for him. “We have to call Gil.”

“No! Absolutely not. I don’t need him.”

“Ryder, seriously.”

It was the kick in the ass he needed. Not to radio his boyfriend and ask for help. Oh, no, no, NO. But it did get him moving. He jerked the handle and the door flipped up with a hiss. He stood up and surveyed the situation.

Not good. But -

The closest solid ground appeared to be a good forty meters away. Nope. Impossible. Unless…. Dammit he had to try. His pride was at stake. He focused on a spot. Got it in his head. Breathed in and out. Deep breaths. Trying to find his zen. He turned his head slightly back to the Nomad’s interior. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Pathfinder, if you are considering a biotic jump, the distance to solid ground is greater than the -”

Scott didn’t wait for SAM to finish before charging. That familiar split second of electric air whooshing by him met with a not so familiar end. Instead of the usual impact of projected force against a solid object that always brought a tingle to every cell in his body, he felt - nothing.

Mmmm… not quite right. It was like punching your fist into a wall only to find the wall was made of putty. When the dazzling blue glow dissipated to let his eyes take in the situation, he found himself chest deep in mud.

Well, that went exactly as it should have, despite his expectations to the contrary. He sighed. Fantastic. At least his arms were free. He’d had enough sense to have his arms outstretched toward his final goal. And they remained so, hovering mere centimeters from mud level. He tried to move but to no avail. The mud proved to be quite thick, which he supposed he should be grateful for, otherwise he’d likely sink into the bog. Not the way he’d want to go, if given a choice.

“Ryder!” Peebee called from the Nomad, her shrill voice burying Vetra’s mumbled “not good.”

“Don’t worry, guys. I got this.” He didn’t have it. He knew it. They knew it. But one thing that had gotten him this far as a pathfinder was his plucky, can-do attitude. He just had to refocus. Just one more jump should do it.

“Pathfinder -”

“SAM, so help me -”

“A biotic jump at this point is impossible, even after cooldown,” SAM continued unfazed by Scott’s threatening tone. “The mud encasing you cannot be -”

“Okay, Sam, I get it!” As his amp cooled down he continued to consider attempting another charge anyway but finally decided against it. He tried not to appear desperate as he looked around for anything that might be his saving grace.

His eyes fell on a tree a bit to his right, half fallen but still rooted. It looked sturdy. Well out of his reach but he had another biotic trick that might work. He threw out a biotic line of pull. He could feel the tendrils gripping the leaning tree. He just prayed it was stationary so that the connection would have the effect of pulling him instead. Should work. In theory.

Sure enough, the mud around him began to gurgle and bloop in protest as his body began to escape it’s suction hold. He began to feel his body go up and forward in fits and starts as the bog resisted giving up its newfound prize. Slow going but he neared the tree and dry land in small increments, though every second risked overheating his amp. After some extended moments, his ears buzzed and blood drained from his eyes, making the sight before him dim.

“Ryder, your biotic implant is at 98% capacity. I advise immediate cooldown.” SAM delivered this news in his usual deadpan style. Fine. That just made it that much easier to ignore him as he pulled even harder. His body gave a significant lurch forward, his torso now completely free.

A crack.

“Please hold. Just a little - bit - longer.”

The tree’s limb that, due to the tree’s angle, had its ends just inches above the mud, snapped and began to drag towards him from the pull - his own momentum halted. Well, shit.

He wanted to cry. He refused to cry. He cursed instead. The howled word reverberated off the barren rock surrounding them. Like every pebble in witness now mimicked him. Mocking him.

“Hey, Ryder. This might work, good job!”

He looked up to find Peebee standing there. On the bank. Next to the tree.

“What the -? How did you -? How did you get over there?”

“I used my biotics to levitate over here.”

“You what?!”

“Yeah, Ryder, I floated over here.” She said this with the same nonchalant tone she might use to announce she had just taken a nap. No big deal.

“So, let me get this straight. Have you always been able to levitate yourself?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. All asari can.”

“And I’m just finding out about this now?” He didn’t mean for the volume and the pitch of his voice to raise throughout that sentence but he just couldn’t help it.

“Can you reach him?” Vetra scrambled over some of the half exposed roots and some rocks that had settled between them - or the tree had grown up between them more likely, not that that had helped to keep it from tipping over.

“Vetra, I swear to god, if you tell me you are biotic and levitated over as well, I will drown myself in this mud.”

“That I what?’

 

Peebee burst into laughter. “Vetra, I told you to stay in the Nomad. I really had him goin’.”

“It’s too hot in there. Ryder turned it off.”

Scott would have strummed his fingers in front of him in his half exposed, nearly horizontal position but stopped himself short of shoving his fingers in the muck. Whatever the explanation, their presence on dry ground in contrast to his current predicament did nothing good for his mood.

Once Peebee got hold of enough breath in between her guffaws, she pointed back toward the Nomad. “So, there was a rock close enough to jump to on the other side of the Nomad.

Well, of course there was. He would have known that if he had looked. But he blamed his passengers for this. “I think it is important that you know that, once I get out of here, I’m going to hurt both of you. See if you can get that limb to me, I can almost reach it.”

Peebee lifted it with her biotics and drifted it his way. “Grab hold,” she instructed as she pulled it back towards her. The suction of the mud made funny poopy sounds but he made no comment and mentally dared the other two to say anything. They must have received the message and remained quiet as his feet finally reached solid ground.

He came down with lazers blazing - from his eyes. Jaw set and nostrils flaring. Much of the anger he had felt toward Gil earlier now threatened to turn to embarrassment - anger at himself. He would have none of that, so he redirected that anger towards the innocent bystanders. They both took a step back. “Not. A. Word.”

 

Peebee bit her lip but remained quiet while Vetra took a sudden interest in the horizon.

“Promise me that this stays between us. The Nomad being stuck. Can’t hide that. But the whole personally getting stuck in the mud thing. That never happened. Understood?”

The girls mumbled acknowledgements.

“Say that you promise. You will speak to no one about this.”

“Yeah, ok, I promise, I won’t tell anybody,” said Peebee. He was pretty sure he heard her tack on the word “jerk” at the end, just under her breath, but he let it slide.

“Not a word. Got it.” Vetra nodded, with nothing more to add, thankfully.

“Good. Now, just let me think.” He glanced at his chronometer. Still an hour before meeting Reyes. That’s good. Then he looked down his torso. His once colorful shorts and teeshirt now a solid clay brown up to his chest. Definitely not good. He felt pretty sure that, despite Vidal’s insistence that they dress casual for lunch, sitting at the table caked in mud might be pushing the envelope.

“I need clothes. SAM, is there some place to buy clothes in this town?”

“Yes. There are currently three purveyors that offer men’s casual attire.”

“Really?” Fortunately, SAM seemed to understand this as a rhetorical question. He’d gotten much better at that. To be fair, Scott knew himself to be a ‘think out loud’ kind of person and SAM had adjusted.

It surprised him that New Hope, Eos’ newest settlement, had grown so quickly. A commercial hub strategically situated amidst the older three settlements, it had become a major destination for new merchants being awakened from cryo. Probably why Reyes had chosen it as the location of his new venture of which Scott and Company were due to be the first patrons.

“Are we close enough to walk?”

A non-rhetorical question and SAM responded dutifully. “Given your standard gait I estimate that you would arrive there in fifty-three minutes; however, given Peebee’s lesser stature, arrival should be in seventy-two minutes, barring unforeseeable circumstances.” Whether this was an attempt by SAM at a joke or he merely gave more information than strictly necessary, Scott couldn’t quite tell but it made him happy either way. He particularly enjoyed the “Hey!” that this comment extracted for Peebee.

“Ok, so we’re hoofing it. I’ll call Reyes and let him know we are going to be late since I have to stop to do some clothes shopping, too.” He said this to no one in particular, already moving toward the nav point. As a second thought, he called back to the befuddled crew behind him: “Ok, campers, let’s move out!”


	2. Chapter 2

Scott sat at the table in his crisp new clothes. He’d splurged a little bit but he’d felt he had reasons. It was vacation after all, though it had yet to feel like it. Given his day thus far, he also deserved something nice. Besides, given his and Vidal’s tenuous rebuilding of a friendship after the fiasco in the cave on Kadara, he didn’t mind admitting that he wanted to impress a little.

It now appeared not to make any difference as Reyes had skipped out. Despite having answered his earlier call with a verbal confirmation that everything was ready to go, Ryder and crew need only arrive - they arrived to find a host showering them with apologies.

“Sadly, Mr. Vidal has been called away on unexpected business that demanded his immediate attention. He humbly apologizes and insists that he will offer these apologies in person at his next earliest opportunity. In the meantime, please stay and enjoy something on the house.”

Scott had half a mind to storm out of the restaurant but Peebee had mentioned being hungry. His own stomach had gurgled a second to that assessment. Although the town had many options for clothing purchases, Chez Nous was their only option for obtaining lunch.

“Is anyone else going to mention the irony of a Latino opening a French restaurant?” Scott had barely waited for the host to seat them and be out of earshot before he grumbled. 

Now he wished he had turned Reyes down on his offer. He’d even broached the subject to Gil expecting his boyfriend to bar him from coming. To Scott’s surprise, Gil said he should go. Scott’s current boyfriend and his former flame did not get along. Even though Reyes had been working so hard to make amends for making Scott an accessory to his attempt on Sloan’s life, Gil had no use for him.

Yet, somehow, here Scott sat. Staring at a bilingual menu in both French and Common but not actually reading any of the descriptions. Looking good with no audience to impress save Vetra and Peebee but he didn’t really care what they thought.

When the waiter came to offer drinks, Scott sighed. “Wine. Lots of it. I don’t really care which kind.” Then he tuned out while she launched into their specials, including their dextro offerings for Vetra’s sake. Instead, he looked around to take in the ambience, or lack thereof.

By Milky Way standards, the place was a dump. Yet another prefab building with another stacked on top of it. Really, he hoped there were some architects coming out of cryo soon because the buildings were really boring. Steel gray everywhere. Reyes had managed to find some tablecloths somehow, though Scott shuddered to think how he pulled that off. Of course, clothes now seemed to be in production, so perhaps tablecloths weren’t too far fetched.

Still, here in Andromeda, restaurants were a novelty. Scott only knew of one other in the colonies, one in Kadara Port. Of course, he didn’t know if that counted since it had been there since the Angara held it. They had used it for a similar purpose.

“Wow, Ryder, you’ve already endorsed this place?”

“What are you talking about?”

Peebee held up the menu and pointed. On the very back were several testimonials from happy customers. Odd, since it wasn’t even open to the public just yet. There, halfway down the page, was his name followed by a quote: “I’m Scott Ryder and this is my favorite restaurant in Heleus.”

“What the hell? I never said that!”

“But it has your name beside it. And you even say, ‘I’m Scott Ryder.’” The last few words were interrupted by her own chukling. Vetra appeared to be holding in a laugh as well. They were enjoying this far too much.

“Okay, first of all, I would never say “I’m Scott Ryder” if I were to endorse a place. That’s just weird. Second, it’s not like there is a lot of competition. And it seems like there was one other thing - oh yeah, I NEVER SAID THAT!”

Reyes Vidal. That scuzzbucket. No wonder he ducked out of here before they arrived. The liar knew very well he’d be in trouble. Not only had he printed a quote that Ryder never said but he didn’t even have the decency to put it at the top. “You know what? When we get back to the Tempest remind me to thaw out some lawyers, ‘cause I’m gonna sue.”

Both Vetra and Peebee lost it - Peebee having been mid-sip of her water which now shot out across the table in a geyser. Scott sulked with his arms crossed at his chest while the girls took a moment to regain their composure. After a full minute, as they continued having bursts of laughter breaking through their poor attempts to rein it in, Scott had had enough.

“That’s it. We’re leaving.”

“What? *chortle* I’m hungry. *snort* Sit down. Where else are we gonna go?”

His own stomach chimed in with a gurgle. Great, it had turned on him, too. Traitor. Fine. He would eat - quickly - then get the hell out. He’d have words with Mr. Vidal very soon.

The food came and Scott shoveled it down. Had he been in a better mood he might have admitted that it was rather good but, as it was, he could only bark a “fine” at the waiter when she asked how it was. At least Peebee and Vetra kept their opinions quiet. He felt just a tad guilty for the waiter’s deflated look as he stormed out. He’d worry about that later.

“Au revoir, monsieur…” the last syllable trailed into a whisper as the maitre ‘d (or whatever he was) tried to wish them well. His genuine smile fell into a confused visage as he watched the angry man and sheepish women make a hasty retreat from the restaurant.

Scott marched as far as he could: to the end of the main street where the buildings ended and, for all intents and purposes, so did the town. There he stopped and stared out into the endless vista, mind spinning much like a proverbial Nomad stuck in the mud.

Finally, either boredom or the awkward silence got to Vetra and she sighed, “I’m almost afraid to ask but what now?”

“We could call Sara.” Peebee chimed in but immediately got a look from Vetra.

Good. Saved him the trouble. No way he was calling Sara. He’d rather crawl back to the Tempest on his stomach. She would never let him live any of this down. She would regale him with this memory on his deathbed . He couldn’t call Sara. He couldn’t call Gil. Or anyone on the Tempest for that matter. He’d have to do major damage control just to keep Vetra and Peebee quiet. 

He did have an idea though.

He switched on his omnitool and punched a button. “It’s good to have connections,” he chimed, feeling rather impressed with himself for the first time today. August Bradley, mayor of Prodromos, owed him plenty and perhaps it was time to start cashing in the favors. As the comm blinked, waiting to connect, he actually smiled and prepared to turn on some extra charm.

“This is Bradley, oh, hello, Pathfinder. What may I do for you today?”

Within minutes of chatting, Bradley had a shuttle lined up to swing by and collect them. They should make it to his next appointment without issue. “What time are we meeting Cora, SAM?” he said as soon as he closed the call with August.

“At 1500, Pathfinder.”

Fantastic. Two solid hours to spare. All they had to do now was find a bench and wait.

\-------------

“They aren’t coming.”

Vetra had been saying it for some time now yet Scott had held up hope. But his chronometer now showed 1430. Still no shuttle. Did Bradley forget about him? Had something happened to the shuttle? Kett activity had all but ceased in the vicinity, surely there hadn’t been an attack. All he knew was that there had better be a damned good explanation for why he was still sitting in New Hope rather than on his way to meet Cora.

Not that he wanted to meet Cora. She had roped him into being her plus one at a horticultural exhibit in Promise. Many of the science labs there were back up and running - hell, they were even having events now. Plants bored the hell out of him but she had looked so hurt when he first told her no. Now, he ran the danger of standing her up altogether.

“That’s it.” He flipped his omnitool on again and brought up Bradley’s number. An unfamiliar face popped up on the screen.

“Mayor Bradley’s office.”

“Who are you? Nevermind. I need the mayor. This is supposed to be his personal line.”

“The mayor has been called away on unexpected business. His calls are currently being forwarded to me as his assistant. May I help you?”

“I -” Scott couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t know words anymore. There was just too much that didn’t make sense from this scenario. This whole day. He supposed that it made sense for Bradley to have an assistant. With more and more people coming out of cryo and choosing Eos as their new home, the man had to be getting busy. Although he was the mayor of one settlement, it was the largest and served as the port for all the other small settlements that were popping up like weeds after a rainstorm; but August had always answered his personal line dedicated to the Pathfinder.

 

And what was the urgent business that seemed to be popping up for everyone all of the sudden. Did the pathfinder taking a day off create a crisis for everyone else? Or was everyone avoiding him on a personal level as soon as they weren’t having to deal with him on a professional one? He was a nice guy, right? He assumed that he was a nice guy, despite the thoughts of choking the living shit out of several people in a single day.

When he remembered that the assistant still stared expectantly at him, blinking with a blank smile plastered across his face, Scott managed to stutter a response. “No - well, yes. I mean, I spoke with the mayor earlier and, well, our shuttle never came. Aw, forget it. I’ll call back later.”

“As you wish,” and the call went dead.

“The universe hates me,” he said to no one in particular, least of all the universe. He ignored the witnesses beside him, who were pacing back and forth. He didn’t want to invite any comments from the peanut gallery. Instead, he contacted the one person he knew he had to speak to at this point. “Hey, Cora.”

“Scott! I thought you’d be here by now. You on your way?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel. I am so sorry! I hate to do this last minute but there have been some, uh, complications. Just something that’s come up last minute I have to take care of.” Holy shit, he was a bad liar. Sadly, his knowledge of this complete lack of talent had not lead to obtaining said talent.

Cora seemed to deflate despite maintaining her wide smile. “Oh?”

God, he felt like a complete shit. But he knew no other way. Well, there were some other ways. He could call Sara. Or Kallo. Or even Gil. But any one of those choices would mean that he would admit defeat - to throw his hands up and hand the universe its victory. That his first day of vacation had summarily kicked his ass. He’d rather feel like a shitty friend. At least he was sincere when he apologized profusely and promised to make it up to her somehow.

“It’s - fine. We’ll do something another day. You probably didn’t want to see a bunch of plants anyway. Take care, Scott.”

She cut the transmission and, for an extra kick in the balls, the afterimage of a smiling yet clearly disappointed face lingered on his omnitool - an occasional glitch with this model that happily chose that moment to manifest. First time in months. Lovely. 

“Call Sara.” Vetra stood in front of him so as to make it difficult for him to ignore her.

So, he had to turn around and piddle with something on his omnitool, namely pressing buttons to try to get Cora’s frozen visage off his screen. “No.”

“Yes. Call her so we can go home. We can figure out a way to discreetly extract the Nomad tomorrow.” The way that she said discreetly spoke volumes. She knew as well as he did that such a thing would not be possible. Gil would inevitably notice it’s absence tonight. They’d have to come up with a hell of a good story.

He knew that she was right but like a beaten man who clung to a mere thread of life might get up and fight again out of sheer tenacity, he found himself digging in. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll think of something else. Do they have hotels here?” Though rhetorical, he really wanted SAM to pipe in here. He didn’t. He sighed and began to type in a search on his omnitool when it blinked to life on its own.

A call. From Sara. Shit.

“Answer it,” Peebee barked beside him. They’d both reached their limit of being victims of his bad day and he knew he couldn’t push them much further; but, he couldn’t get his frozen hand, hovering above his keyboard mid-search, to move. A blue hand moved in and tapped the button for him before he quite knew what was happening and he found himself staring at his sister’s scowl.

“What the hell, Scott?”

“Um, ‘hi’ to you, too, sis.”

“I just got a call from Cora. She says you’re ditching her.” Sara never pulled punches when it come to her little twin brother. She took after their dad in that regard. She would plow empty handed into a field of angry remnant for him without hesitation but she also didn’t put up with any of his shit. It was a cruel joke of fate that he became pathfinder rather than her. Who knows what Heleus would have become already if she had taken on the mantle of fearless leader rather than the smart ass/dumb ass who received the title.

“Well, I don’t know that I would say I ditched her.”

Sara crossed her arms. “Oh no? Hmmm, sounds like she was waiting for you at an event you said you would attend and she gets a call mere moments before it starts to alert her that you had something ‘come up’. So, what would you call it.”

“I did have something come up!” He hoped the exasperation in his voice, rooted as it was within his genuine emotion, would carry the lie of omission. He knew better even as he sold her the pitch.

“You’re on vacation, Scott. So, what? What came up that was so important you’d ditch your friend?” 

He had nothing. And he knew all too well that she would not let this go. If he hung up she would just call again and again or give him a full interrogation whenever he got back. He worked his jaw, bidding the words out of his mouth but enough stubbornness remained within him that he found his lips cemented closed.

“We’re stuck out here, Sara.”

Damn you, Peebee, Scott thought, though he felt relieved he at least didn’t have to say it himself.

“You’re what?”

Scott sighed as he glared down Peebee from running her mouth any more. “It’s a long story. But, the Nomad is stuck out in the desert and, well, we are here and can’t get a ride.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I’m sure commandeering a shuttle isn’t that hard.”

“You know why.”

“Whatever. I will be there in thirty. And then I will drop you off in Promise for Cora’s event. You’ll be late but at least you might have time to salvage some of the evening and keep her from being all alone.”

It wasn’t an offer. Scott had to swallow down the phrase “yes, sir” that had formed in the back of his throat. “Fine.”

“Good. Sara out.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Ryder!”

Shit. He’d almost made it. He’d thought the Tempest would be empty. So it had seemed at first. The night technically still had plenty to offer anyone who had not had enough of their day. Scott, however, was a thousand percent over it. He wanted only to curl up with a book in the silence of his quarters and possibly cry himself to sleep. He even prayed that Gil would still prove to be M.I.A. They had a fight coming but he just didn’t have the energy for it tonight.

The call had come from the kitchen. Scott froze, hand mere inches from the door panel. He didn’t even try to stifle the deep sigh that heaved from his belly. He identified the voice before he turned to see Liam’s wide smile, snack bag in his hand, potato chip mid-way to his mouth. Scott’s heavy sigh, deep lidded eyes and etched in frown seemed totally lost on his bubbly friend.

“I’m so glad I ran into you! You should come into Prodromos with me. They have this new bar that just opened and it is totally packed with like this mad crowd. I just came back cause their food was way expensive and I need something on the stomach if I’m going to start drinking and -”

“Liam. I don’t mean to be rude but all I want to do right now is crawl in bed and get under the blankets and maybe not come back out for several weeks.”

This took a bit of effervescence out of Liam’s face and he finally noticed Scott’s irritable mood. “Bad day, huh?”

“Oh yeah. I’m thinking it’s made the top ten of all time. And if one more bad thing happens between now and me being in my pajamas in bed it will land itself in the top five. So, to avert further catastrophe, I’m not leaving my quarters.”

Liam deflated a bit right in front of Scott’s eyes. He hated that but he planned to stand firm. 

“But, it’s vacation! Surely you don’t want to spend your first vacation in bed all the time.”

“Oh, but I do, Liam.” Scott popped the door panel and it swished open. He took a step in, meaning to end the conversation there, but a thought struck him. So, he backstepped a bit to deliver Liam a final message. “And if you see Gil anywhere in the meantime, tell him he can sleep in the crew quarters. Thanks.”

The door almost cut off Liam’s words. Almost. But, no. They just had to follow him in.

“Oh, Gil’s there. At the bar.”

Scott could feel his neck burning. He stood there, his logical mind reminding him that his end goal sat mere steps away: a nice, cushy bed just for him. He need only undress, put on his pajamas - or not - and crawl in. He wouldn’t even worry about his nightly routine. He’d wake up with horrible breath but it would be so worth it.

Then, there was the other side of Scott’s brain. The one he knew better than to listen to. The one that only seemed to exist to get him into trouble. All of those emotional chemicals that he seemed overstocked with and they fired up at a moment’s notice. They demanded that he pursue this new information.

He’d just assumed that Gil had been busy with his work, married to it as he was. Scott knew that he was a secondary distraction for when he wasn’t elbow deep in grease and gadgets. To learn that he was at a bar - with his logical brain screaming at him in vain to let it go, Scott stepped back out into the hallway.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood. You said Gil is at this bar?”

“Um. Yeah. I - I thought you knew.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But, no. I had no idea. Since he’s been missing all day. Fantastic. First, I’m stood up by Reyes, then my own boyfriend decides to go to a bar without me.”

“Oh, Reyes is there, too!” The light in Liam’s eyes spoke to his excitement that he was able to offer another piece of needed information to his boss. Always helpful, Liam. But the light sputtered and died quickly as he realized that he’d only added fuel to a wildfire.

“WHAT?”

“Maybe I’ve said too much.” He wanted to run, Scott could tell. But he was trapped. And Scott moved fully into the door frame to make sure that Liam couldn’t bolt.

“Reyes? Reyes Vidal? That Reyes?”

Liam’s adams apple worked several times. Perhaps he was trying to swallow an entire apple. “Yeah.”

“You know what? I don’t even care. At this point, the only thing in this godforsaken galaxy that I care anything about is my bed and being in it. Those two can just keep each other company for all I care.” He turned on his heel and began to march off - the last sentence, meant to be the last word, spoken off the cuff. An angry attempt to laugh off the situation.

Gil hated Reyes. He openly held jealousy towards the man who almost got Scott Ryder. Scott had assured him that there was no reason for jealousy. They never did anything more than kiss. A nice experience, sure, but brief and nothing worth getting too excited about. Plus, the man had turned out to be a bit too slimy for Scott’s taste. Nothing compared to how he felt about the redheaded mechanic on any other day but today. He hoped that they not only bumped into each other but that they got into a fight or something equally as unpleasant. They both deserved a bit of a taste of what he’d been through that day.

“Well, they kinda are. I mean, I thought they hated each other but Gil was buying drinks for Reyes so, I guess they made up or whatever.”

Liam didn’t get to finish chewing the chips he had just shoved in his mouth. Too bad. He could chew and walk at the same time. Scott had him by the arm, dragging him down the hallway toward the exit.

“Where are we going?” Liam questioned once he had swallowed enough of his mouthful to be able to speak. 

“To the bar. Do you need a jacket? No? Then let’s go.”

\-------------

Scott had never seen so many people out and about in Prodromos. Fortunately, Liam had filled him in on their short jaunt from the port where the Tempest was parked. As it happened, Bradley had initiated a set of holidays now that things seemed to be settling into some sort of normalcy. What better way to solidify that feeling then to begin having celebrations.

All well and good. And perhaps that was what Bradley had gotten pulled away to on such short notice, some last minute preparations. But Scott found it more than a little odd that the mayor had made no mention of this to the pathfinder. Or invited him either. Scott didn’t know whether to feel jilted or angry or relieved - so he felt them all but he kept it all inside. He allowed Liam to ramble off all the details that Scott completely ignored while he stewed.

He followed the lean, bobbing man in front of him without taking in much. The crowds became ever thicker as they neared the central area of town. The only thought that occured to Scott that had anything to do with his immediate surroundings was that he didn’t realize that this many people even lived in Prodromos. Otherwise, he stared straight ahead with laser focus until they arrived at this bar of Liam’s where Gil had gotten all chummy with Reyes.

The good news: he was keeping an open mind. He didn’t know if he would punch Gil first or Reyes. He’d play it by ear. Music blared, drowning out the muttering of the crowd. Some stupid canned music. Sounded like a carnival or theme park. Whatever. He just hoped they would arrive at this bar as soon as possible because, of all the emotions swirling in his head, anger had gotten the upper hand and threatened to drown out the rest. Scott felt fine with this but it didn’t bode well for Gil. Or Reyes. Or any innocent bystander who might become collateral damage.

“Oh, wait, I see Gil over there.”

Scott followed Liam’s pointed finger over a sea of heads. Sure enough, Gil stood there, handsome as a devil and gabbing it up with none other than Mr. Vidal, who literally was the devil. Reyes said something and Gil laughed and settled a hand on Vidal’s shoulder.

In that moment, Scott was a bull and Gil danced in a besparkled suit and sombrero, waving a red cape. A familiar biotic hum coalesced over Scott’s skin and he came so close to charging through the crowd. Enough logic remained within him to settle for just pushing through the crowd rather than mowing them down. So he did, or he tried to.

The throng of people seemed thicker than the mud he’d been stuck in earlier that day. His squalls of “excuse me” drowned by the damned music. So, two by two he parted the paris of people in his immediate path, some of them stepping aside as soon as they realized he needed through. Others pushed back or stumbled into him, particularly those who had already had more than enough to drink.

All the while, his eyes never left the two men standing next to some scaffolding. Gil whispered something in Reyes’ ear and this time the latino guffawed, a hand going around Gil’s waist for a squeeze. Hands off my man, asshole!

The music died down. A voice and a tap. None of it broke his concentration. He was almost there. Just a few rows of people to push through - 

The speakers blared a high pitched squeal that drew gasps from the crowd. And stopped Scott in his tracks. His head swiveled toward what appeared to be a makeshift stage, jacked up to head level of the crowd. August Bradley stood at the center, all smiles. “Welcome, Prodromos, and the rest of Eos, to the first annual Pathfinder Day.”

The people gathered around the stage erupted in hollers, whistles - and one person somewhere seemed to have a horn.

“There are a lot of things we want to celebrate today. This is the first time we have all, as a group, come together and officially taken a breath. A sigh of relief. Today is the day that we, as a community, can say with one voice: we made it!”

Another round of screaming and cheering rippled over the crowd. Bradley continued on, speaking with sweeping gestures. He’d become a true politician, it would seem. They’d accomplished much, come so far, blah blah blah.

Scott stopped listening. He felt the strangest sensation. He wondered if somewhere he had gone to sleep and slipped into a dream. His mind reviewed the events of the day, attempting to trace back to the exact point he’d left reality. Everything around him seemed real enough. The bodies pressing up against him, the ringing that had developed in his ears from the loud music, the anger that still swirled inside him - but it all had become coated with a sudden layer of confusion. Like waking up to an unexpected snowstorm and seeing white instead of familiar brown. Same landscape as the day before but foreign.

He didn’t know where to keep his attention, unruly as it already was. The stage? Gil and Reyes, who now appeared to be wrapped up in Bradley’s speech? Liam, who he just remembered stood behind him soaking everything in with a puppy grin on his face?

“- Scott Ryder!” Scott’s focus snapped to the stage where August Bradley had just said his name. In the same moment, a spotlight swept to where he stood, nearly blinding him; however, he could see the mayor standing there with his hand outstretched. All heads in the place turned towards the pathfinder. Applause erupted across the crowd and a few people close to him patted him on the back and shoulders. One woman, she looked to be at least eighty, walked up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

He’d always heard the old cliche of being a deer caught in headlights. He never quite understood what that literally felt like until that moment. His body just stayed rigid and motionless - until Liam gave him a gentle nudge at the back. He complied as his friend guided him towards the stairs leading up to the stage, though his feet dragged a bit, nearly toppling him. This time, however, the sea of people parted before him, giving him easy access.

He climbed the stairs slowly, as a man might towards his own execution. He still wondered if this was just a dream. One of those in which he would find himself naked in front of a group of people while they laughed and jeered. He felt like that despite being fully clothed and receiving acclaim from the people around him. There were even a few who called out for a speech.

Bradley laughed at this. “No, no. We won’t put the poor pathfinder through any more. If we did our jobs right, he had no idea this was happening tonight. So he doesn’t have anything prepared. Unless you want to make a speech?” 

“Um, no, but, uh, thank you.”

The mayor said more but Scott struggled to switch gears. He felt like he had mental whiplash from being on a downward spiral all day and suddenly finding himself the center of applause. He smiled as best he could and waved and nodded at what he thought might be appropriate times; but, it had already been established that he was a bad liar. This included not being able to bluff when it came to his emotions.

“And we apologize for keeping you from Gil all day but he had an important job to do. Don’t be mad at him,” August said with a wink as he waved to someone behind the pathfinder. “Gil, would you come on up and do the honors?”

Scott turned and saw his man bouncing up the stairs, pearly teeth sparkling in the light. He dressed up, too - as much as Gil ever dressed up. He wore khakis and a button down shirt. Scott had missed that detail before.

The mechanic waited until the cheers and chatter died down before he tapped a control on his omnitool connecting him to the live feed. “Hi,” he said to the audience with a sheepish grin that was one of the most adorable things that Scott had ever seen. “I’m not really one for speeches but this day is really important to me. Yes, this day is about all of our pathfinders but I have a soft spot for one in particular.” The sly devil wrung sighs from all the romantics present and chuckles from others. He might not know how to give a speech but he certainly knew how to work a crowd.

“I’m really sorry to miss your first day of vacation - and that you had a seriously bad day. But I really wanted this to be a surprise. Actually, I have two surprises. First, I wanted to show you a little project I’ve been helping with. As Mr. Bradley said, this is the first Pathfinder day and we want to honor you and all of the pathfinders, including the very first. So, um, I hope you like it.” 

Gil nodded to someone off stage and powerful lights flicked on out in the water. Scott hadn’t noticed, given the dark of night and hordes of people they’d threaded through, that the stage had been set up right in front of the old reservoir. The lights formed a circle and all of their beams pointed to one structure that had be cloaked by the night. The mystery edifice stood a good twenty meters above the water, covered by a plain, beige canvas. At Bradley’s signal, the canvas fell away to reveal a man in N7 armor holding a hand to the heavens, much in the way Scott had seen him look when he manipulated the first vault on Habitat 7.

It - it was a statue of his dad: Alec Ryder. Scott’s mouth fell open. He couldn’t tell what type of metal it had been constructed out of but it appeared to be a bronze color. It caught the tiny ripples of the water beautifully giving it the illusion of motion. Scott just stood and stared at it, water welling in his eyes. He wondered if Sara had seen it; if she was in the crowd.

A hand appeared at his shoulder. “So, now that you know I ditched you for a good cause, are you still mad at me?”

The answer to that was complicated. Yes. His anger from earlier in the day still clung to him but it was more like a residue, like the mud he’d had to scrape off his legs that morning. Nothing he really wanted to hold on to - he wanted nothing more than to get it off. It felt icky and gross. Now, as he looked into those brown, puppy dog eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder: how could you be mad at a puppy? His puppy. And to know that not only was he not ignoring Scott but that he’d been working so hard on this event - it just melted him.

He swallowed in an attempt to break apart the lump that had formed in his throat. “No.”

“Good. Because I wouldn’t want you to be mad at me right now, cause I’ve got another surprise for you.” His eyes fell to the floor and his head cocked sideways. Scott had seen that movement many times - the head cocking part - when Gil worked to figure something out. Finally, his almond eyes linked back to Scott’s and, despite a sheepish smile that sprung up, they held more emotion within them than Scott had ever seen there. Or, perhaps that wasn’t quite right. Not more emotion just the most complex mix of them: sadness, joy, hope - and worry.

Scott had to fight the impulse to wrap him up in a hug.

“To everyone here, you are a hero. You are no less than that to me. Back on the Nexus, before the Hyperion arrived, I just waited to die. I thought I’d made the worst decision of my life. Possibly the last.” He let out a nervous laugh and it met with some other nervous laughter from the audience, probably from those remembering the same period. “It was a really dark period for all of us.

“But, then you showed up and I was lucky enough to be on the Tempest. I watched you. The only person who didn’t have faith in you as a pathfinder was yourself. And possibly Tann. But Tann’s an ass, so he doesn’t count.”

Scott laughed but immediately stifled it. For all he knew, Tann watched from the crowd or, more likely, a VIP section somewhere. Hell, was this being broadcast? He forced a professional look though he knew his eyes still shown.

“You gave us a chance in this galaxy. You made friends and allies that we desperately needed. And for the ones that didn’t want to play nice, well, you helped us kick their collective hineyholes.”

Scott beamed as people laughed. Normally, he hated to be praised. The spotlight kept being thrust upon him but he didn’t want it. All the times he had to do interviews and “record something for posterity” - it made him want to bury himself. But Gil had him mesmerized. He didn’t mind sharing the light with him. He made it a safer place to be.

“So, yeah, to me and to everyone here, you’re a hero. But you’re more than a hero to me. You’re beautiful. You make me laugh every moment of every day. You have me smiling even when you aren’t around me. You entered my life and turned the darkest moment into the brightest and I love you.”

Scott didn’t restrain himself this time. He fell on Gil’s neck. “I love you, too.” A collective “awww” and Scott let out a gulpy, snotty laugh into Gil’s shoulder.

Gill extracted himself from Scott’s grip. “Wait, I wasn’t finished, you goof.” He backed away a few steps and descended to one knee. He had a box in his hand that Scott hadn’t noticed before. He opened it to reveal an Andromeda Initiative pin. The design was the standard insignia but the light set off a sparkle of small diamonds along its border. “Couldn’t find a jewelry store in this galaxy just yet but, fortunately, they had this in reserve. Scott Ryder, will you marry me?”

Someday, when he looked back on the vid of this occasion, he would think he did not appear the least bit like a pathfinder. He looked, in that moment, one hundred percent like a blubbering, emotional mess. A very happy emotional mess, but his tears of happiness flowed freely along with some unfortunate watery mucus from his nasal passages. But he gave exactly zero fucks about that in that moment. The only thing that mattered was saying the next word.

“Yes!”

“Yes?” Gil said as if he’d expected a completely different answer and maybe he hadn’t heard right.

Scott nodded emphatically and, this time, Gil was the one to sweep in. He lifted Scott up off his feet and they kissed, Scott’s hands cupping Gil’s face. That’s when Scott heard the explosion. His head shot up to find the noise.

On the other side of the lake, fireworks burst over the water. And he laughed. He laughed and laughed as Gil twirled him around and then bought him down for another kiss.

This had been the best day ever.


	4. Epilogue

“Really? You’re wearing your welding mask?” Scott side-eyed Gil as his boyfri - no, wait, his fiancé - climbed up next to him. Scott had already settled onto his blanket which he’d spread out atop the newly extracted, washed and polished Nomad. He busied himself with spraying on the 5,000 SPF (or something) sunblock that Dr. T’Perro had insisted he use. He agreed begrudgingly; he had hoped to get some color to his pasty skin because he was more than a little jealous of Gil’s darker tones.

“Honestly, I’d forgotten it was on.”

Scott laughed at this and shrugged when Gil made no effort to take it off. The mechanic had been making even more changes to the pathfinder statue even though everyone insisted that it was perfect. But he’d promised to get done early and spend the rest of the day soaking up some sun with regular intervals of swimming in the small man-made pond Prodromians now used for recreation.

True to his word, he showed up shortly after Scott had parked the Nomad by the lake, Cora and Suvi in tow. The rest of the gang also began to trickle in as well. Gil arrived just in time to perform a very important function.

“Here, spray my back.” He meant to sound serious but couldn’t keep the smile from his eyes. Or his lips. Or face. He still felt giddy from the night before.

Gil smiled. “Gladly,” and set about rubbing in the spray with his hands, massaging more than was strictly necessary into the muscles of Scott’s shoulders and back. When he finished, they flipped spots and Scott returned the favor, extra massage included. Once they were covered, they shared a kiss - a long enough one to extract an “eww” from Suvi - and sprawled back on their towels.

The boys lay there in silence, hands behind their heads. Elbows touching. Sounds of other Tempest crew wafting up to them on their perch: chattering, laughing. Scott was happy. But - there was something eating at him. He tried to hold it in, leave it for later, but the question finally pushed him up on one elbow.

“Are you going to tell me how you did it?”

“How I did what?”

“To keep me occupied all day yesterday. You couldn’t have known I would wreck the Nomad.”

Gil turned his head ever so slightly towards Scott and opened his eyes to slits, doing his best to keep the sunlight out of them. One eyebrow shot northward. “Couldn’t I?”

“Ass.” He gave a playful shove to his husband to be. “Really, though. How did you do it?”

“Actually, I didn’t. I mean, it was my idea but I was elbows deep in your dad. Wow - that - that sounded wrong. I was busy working on your dad’s statue. I mean, you should have seen what a mess it was before I got ahold of it. I’m telling you they had it hooked together with spit and wire -”

“Gil.”

“Yeah?”

“Focus.”

“Sorry. Anyway, I got updates but I didn’t get to do any of the coordination to keep you busy.” He appeared saddened by this and Scott had little doubt that this indeed disappointed him.

“Updates? Coordination? Who was coordinating?”

“I did, pathfinder.”

The one person he thought he could trust. “Et tu, SAM?”

“My apologies for the deception but it was necessary for the surprise. I kept Sara alerted to your whereabouts. I even took the liberty of augmenting the aggression you were already feeling towards Gil.”

“Oh, yeah, that might explain why I acted like a crazy person yesterday.”

His sister didn’t miss the opportunity to call up from her towel just below Scott. “What’s your excuse on other days?”

“Haha.” Scott retaliated by tossing his crumpled tee shirt at her - a good shot despite it’s odd dynamics. It landed squarely on her head. She pulled it off with a beaming smile.

SAM chimed in again without being prompted. “I would say that I am sorry, but I am not.” Scott felt like a parent whose kid had grown up, showing the first signs of maturity.

“I would say that I’m upset with you, but I’m not. I’m kinda proud, actually. But, just so you know, if you ever do that again, I will unplug you. Hear that, everyone,” he called to the crew members scattered around the Nomad, “It was induced psychosis. But, god, you all must have thought I was nuts.”

“Nah, we knew what was going on.” Peebee finished slurping from her drink container and belched. Classy.

“So, everybody was in on this?”

“It takes a village to trick a Ryder.” Cora’s eyes lit up under the wave of hair. He felt happy to know that all of the hurt he’d feared he caused her had just been for show. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to her the night before. Upon arrival back at the Tempest, he’d made a beeline for his quarters and locked the door.

“And Reyes and Bradley were part of the charade, too. Right?” He glared at Gil with feigned accusation in his eyes.

Gil made a sound from his throat as if there were a hairball stuck there. “Ugh, yes. I mean, I still can’t stand him; but, I have to say, he played his part beautifully.”

Scott’s mind reeled at all the times it could have gone wrong. Probably did. It’s hard to be the puppet master when your puppet comes off its strings. “Well, I have to say, I’m impressed. By all of you. Well done.” With that, he took a sip of his own drink and settled back down.

Quiet settled over the group. The tiny waves lapping against shore - or whatever one might call it - nearly lulled Scott to sleep. The heat of the mid-day sun proved to be a co-conspirator. He felt his consciousness drifting and his body preparing to shut down all non-essential functions.

Until Gil started laughing. “God, I would have loved to see you up to your chin in mud.”

“Gotcha covered, Gil.” Peebee scampered up the Nomad and plopped herself down next to Gil. Before Scott quite knew what was happening, she had her omnitool pulled up and a video began to play on its screen.

“You recorded that?! You promised!”

“You made me promise not to tell anyone. You said nothing about banning footage.”

Scott let out a long sigh. Irritation reared its ugly head but his heart simply proved too light to be dragged down by it. “Okay, fine. Everyone come on up. I know you are all dying to see this.”

Everyone climbed aboard, except for Drack who just leaned against it. He watched them and smiled as they giggled and chattered. Peebee and Vetra gave their own somewhat embellished first hand accounts. Here they were. His family. His soon-to-be husband.

Yep, this was the best life ever.


End file.
